Author's Note:
Just some more sexy Johnlock time.
"Right, Amy, please," John muttered and sighed when she pouted and shook her head again. "Papa's busy."
"No! Story!" Amy crossed her arms harshly over her chest and sniffed, her little eyes already read. "Story!" She shrieked.
"Oi, all right," John muttered as he picked up his cell phone and dialed Sherlock's number. "Hey. I have got a rather pouty princess here who is requesting a bedtime story. You are on speaker."
Sherlock was about to say something to his mother when his mobile rang. "Bedtime story, I will be back in a bit." He left the room and began pacing the corridor as he answered the phone. "Hi there Baby Girl. Need a story from Papa to help sleep? Of course." He was quiet a moment as he tried to think of something. "Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess and her Daddy the King loved her very much. Anything she asked for, he would give her. Ponies. Personal servants. Anything. Even though the Princess had everything she could ever want, she was still unhappy. She wanted to fall in love. Well, that was one thing the King couldn't give her. He presented the Princess with several handsome and rich Princes but she didn't want to marry any of them. One day the Princess was in trouble by some bandits and a brave, street girl saved the Princess. The two fell in love at first sight. They got married and lived happily ever after."
Amy smiled tiredly and curled her body around John's phone, looking at it with half-open eyes. "'S good," she muttered through a yawn before she finally fell asleep, snoring softly. John relaxed almost instantly and gently pried the phone from their daughter's hands.
"Jesus, she was being so stubborn tonight," John whispered as he stood up and gently shut the door to the bedroom. "Raising an almost three-year-old is exhausting work." And it was keeping him positive because this time three years ago he was back in London on a week leave from Afghanistan...and Sarah had died. He cleared his throat and moved to sit in his chair. "How is Nancy?"
Sherlock smirked, even though John couldn't see it. "Mum is okay, I think. She just woke up a little bit ago and demanded to go home. Not that I really blame her, but Mycroft and I managed to talk her into staying the rest of the night to get some rest. What time should I come over to the manor tomorrow? Will you need help with the preparations?" Shit. He hadn't even bought a gift yet. He would have to do some last minute shopping tomorrow before the party.
"I...actually called and talked to Charlie," John said with a small laugh. "And figured it out. All decorated and ready to go for little Amy. And don't worry about a present, got her three. One from you, one from me, and one from the family." Everything right now was so busy that he needed to help out the best he could. "Could you be there at one or so? And is Nancy coming with you?" He bit his bottom lip as he shifted in the chair and yawned.
"John, I am going to buy our daughter a present." Sherlock didn't know how to explain that he needed to do this. Shit, was John going to get upset? Had he accidentally started a fight? Oh. His husband had asked a question. "Yeah, that is fine. No, not for the party with the kids. Mycroft and I will bring her home for the second one that is for the family."
Right. Sherlock was quite the father. "All right," he said with a soft smile despite the fact that his husband couldn't see it. "Go buy her a present, love...she will just get a lot of them. Three year olds like them, yeah?" There was a small rustle from upstairs and he held his breath before Amy stopped moving in bed. That had been close. "I can't believe she's three."
"Yeah, she is at that age where she likes to get things. She is going through a dog craze stage, but I am going to see if I can find her something else." Sherlock wasn't sure what he was going to buy yet but he was hoping he would know it when he saw it. "I know, she is growing up so fast Love. It has been amazing to watch. Crawling, her first steps, talking and God John she is so smart." It was clear he was a proud father.
Smart? Technically, and John's gut twisted at the thought, Amy was related to him. There was no way in Hell his daughter should be classified smart, especially by Sherlock's standards. He blushed at the thought and dropped his head. "She is amazing," he whispered without a second thought. He was fairly sure the little girl had been their reason for staying together for so many reasons, even if she almost tore them apart when she was discovered. "When can I come and see you? I miss you."
Sherlock smirked. "Almost as amazing as me." He thought for a moment before answering the question. "You can come see me whenever you want Love. I am sure Mrs. Hudson would be more than happy to watch the children for you." He paused in his pacing to lean against a wall. "I miss you already too." And he did. It felt like things kept happening to stop him from being with his family.
It had only been a few hours but they missed each other already. All John could think about was giving Sherlock a slow kiss and pressing his face into his husband's chest. "I think I will be there in an hour or so. I won't stay the whole night but...I just want to see you." He chuckled and closed his eyes as he held the phone a little tighter. "I miss you," he repeated in a whisper.
"If you bring lubricant, I will shag you in a supply closet. If we had time, we could do doctor/patient role play. God knows we have been in a hospital enough." Where had that come from? Sherlock hadn't been able to help himself. It had just popped into his head and now he really wanted to try. Shit. He was getting a hard on just thinking about.
John's eyes shot open at that and he swallowed hard. It definitely wasn't what he had in mind when coming to visit Sherlock but it didn't sound horrible. "I... sure," he finally replied with a laugh as he reached under the cushion of his chair and grabbed one of their many hidden small bottles. "Want to see your Mum first. I want to see how she is doing." He cleared his throat and slipped the lube into his front pocket. "Is that all right?"
"Of course it is. We don't have to, if you don't want to. It was just an idea that came to me suddenly." After shagging on the couch, Sherlock had constantly wanted to be with John. Like on their honeymoon when they had shagged five times in one day. Was he going to be able to wait? He was already squirming and hard with all his rampant thoughts of sex.
It was clear that Sherlock wanted to be close. Hell, he couldn't deny that he missed his husband's touch. It might help him sleep a bit easier when he went back to the flat for the night. "I want to. God, Sherlock, I miss you." He laughed softly and shifted in his chair. Now he felt it, realized how aroused he was. "Be there soon," he said with a low voice, tying to calm himself down. "Love you," he ended the call and stood up, moving downstairs and receiving a knowing smile from their landlady. He darted out the door, managed to get a taxi, and was walking toward Nancy's room before he knew it. He gently pushed the door open to the hospital room, his eyes instantly searching for his husband.
Sherlock hung up his mobile and smirked at the people staring at him in the hallway. Okay. Now he just needed something to distract him from his thoughts. Should he walk back to his mother's room with his pants bulging like that? It hardly seemed appropriate and Mycroft would definitely say something. He needed to think of something else to calm him down. Like remembering that he had a narcotics group to get into. That did it. He was certain John would be able to get him going again. His husband always could. He walked back into the room and sat back down in the chair. "John will be coming around to see you Mum."
Nancy smiled. "That will be good. Knowing you two, he isn't just coming here to see me." She smirked at her youngest son as the door opened and her son-in-law came in.
Nancy was talking and he managed a smile in her direction before and moved toward Sherlock, gently meeting his husband's lips. John pulled away with a shaky breath, keeping his eyes closed for a long moment before he smiled. "Hi," he whispered before his entire face flushed a deep red. "Um, right, N-Nancy. Hi." He stood straight up and took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "How are you feeling?" God, why hadn't he been more polite? How rude of him.
Sherlock smirked back at his mother and gave a slight shrug. He turned his attention to John, another smirk forming on his lips. "Hi Love."
"I am fine Dear. I wanted to go home now, but the boys won't let me. I tried to get them to go home to their families, and they still won't listen." Nancy shook her head slightly but smiled warmly at John.
John smiled a bit and moved to lean against Sherlock's chair, moving a hand to gently massage the back of his husband's neck. "They are very right, Nancy. Keeping you here is good. You will get better a lot faster." He paused and turned to place a soft kiss on the top of Sherlock's head. "Just in time for Amy's little family party."
Sherlock closed his eyes from the contact. It felt wonderful. It was calming and soothing. John's touch was always so amazing to feel.
"I know you didn't come to just see me." Nancy smirked knowingly. "Go have your fun, but don't expect me or Mycroft to bail you out if the hospital catches you and sends you to jail."
Right. John blushed at that, his hand gently pinching the back of Sherlock's neck. "I...yes. Sorry," he whispered with a nervous lick of his lips.
Mycroft smirked from his chair while squeezing Nancy's hand. "Exactly. So not too loud, John," he said with a smirk as he sat back.
"Oi, hush up," John replied softly as he curled his fingers and started scratching at the base of Sherlock's skull, right at the hair line. "What if we planned on just going out for lunch?"
Sherlock was enjoying John's hand on his head, head tilting slightly into the touch. He was only half listening to the conversation going on around him. He was enthralled by his husband's touch.
Nancy arched a brow. "Well then, don't get caught there either." She was getting tired again already and gave a small yawn. "I am going to sleep some more I think my dears."
John stumbled over his words, the fingers in Sherlock's hair going still. "Right. Yes, go ahead and sleep," he said to Nancy with a bit of a smile. "Come on." He looked down at Sherlock and bent at the waist to give his husband and quick kiss. "I am hungry. Let's go eat," he muttered with a strong blush. When had he become such a horrible liar?
Sherlock arched a brow as he opened his eyes. "John, they know. It isn't a bit deal." He gave his husband a quick kiss on the cheek before standing. "We will probably be awhile this time around." He gave a smirk to Mycroft, grabbed John's hand and then led them out of the room. "There is a floor in this hospital that is being renovated but at this hour, it will probably be empty. It will give us some privacy. We can take the elevator up to the floor, but we will have to take the stairs the rest of the way." He pushed the button to the lift.
John followed after his husband silently, too afraid to talk now. They knew. God, Sherlock's family knew what they were doing. He cleared his throat and looked up at Sherlock, managing a small smile. "Sounds good," he whispered as he squeezed his partner's hand. "Sounds very good." He turned on his feet and press his body completely against Sherlock's with a grin. "I can't wait to feel you inside of me."
When the doors opened, Sherlock was tempted to use the emergency stop on the elevator and take John there. With his husband pressed against him like this, it was difficult not to undo both of their trousers now. "How do you want to do it? I figured you would be the doctor. Do I seduce you? Or you seduce me? Or did you want to skip the role play and go straight to shagging?"
John titled his head with a small shrug, grinning as he nipped at the pulse point in his husband's neck. "Don't care, just really want you," he muttered against Sherlock's skin. What had gotten into him? Obviously not Sherlock yet. He snorted at his thoughts and pressed his nose against Sherlock's ear. "Whatever you want."
Sherlock frowned but nodded. Perhaps another time for the role play then. John didn't seem to be interested in it anyway. Did his husband even want to shag now? When the doors opened, he led them up a flight of stairs. The door was locked. Using a credit card and a knife he jimmied it open. The halls were lined with plastic and smelled of paint. He found a room for them and closed the door behind them just in case. His initial zeal was gone but maybe he could get them both back in the mood. He leaned into John, pressing his husband into the door he had just closed. He began kissing John, hoping that would get things going.
John moaned softly into Sherlock's mouth, moving both of his hands into the back of his husband's backs and squeezing his ass, yanking Sherlock forward. "Fuck," he whispered into his husband's mouth. After a slow roll of his hips forward, John lifted one leg to wrap it slightly around his husband's thighs. "Love you. God, I love you."
Okay, so maybe John did want him but with his husband being so eager now, he figured foreplay was out of the question. It was a bit disappointing but it was clear John needed him right now. He pressed into his husband with a moan, moving his lips to John's neck where he began sucking and biting. "Love you too," he murmured into his husband's skin.
There was something wrong. John had felt the slight tensing of his husband's body. He gasped slightly, his hands moving slowly out of Sherlock's pants. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" He was breathing hard and couldn't help the small movement of his hips. "Tell me what's wrong, Sherlock." He swallowed hard pushed his head back as far as possible to look at his husband. "Do you want to do that? Do the doctor thing?" God, he didn't want to ruin anything.
"No its fine." When had he become so transparent? "Everything is fine," Sherlock repeated. He rocked into John again, trying to motivate himself. He had been so eager during the phone call. Had he really been that disappointed about the role play? God, he was becoming needy wasn't he? Should he just tell John to forget about this whole damn thing? Would that upset his husband? Maybe he could distract John. He went back to biting and sucking on his husband's neck, growling slightly. He thrust his hips into John a bit roughly, with another growl.
Something was wrong and Sherlock was denying it but Jesus he had just pushed him roughly into the door. John took a moment to gather his wits and think. If he brought it up again the mood would certainly be gone but he didn't want to force his husband into anything. "Sherlock, no." He lifted his hands and placed them gently on his husband's chest. "Talk to me. What's wrong?" His eyes moved to meet the man's gaze intently.
Sherlock sighed. How was he supposed to explain to his husband that before he had been eager and now he wasn't? It wasn't like him to lose interest in sex like this. "I don't know. You didn't seem to want to before and now you do…" He sighed again and shrugged a bit. Fuck. Was he pouting? Was that what was going on here?
It wasn't exactly a lie, was it? John hadn't been too keen on it over the phone. "I wasn't but seeing you..." He bit his lip, still breathing heavily. God, being pinned between the door and his husband wasn't doing anything to help calm him down. "I can't help it. And I do want you now but if you don't want to have sex right now then we aren't. I am not doing that to you at all." He stood on toes and gave Sherlock a slow and gentle kiss.
"If you weren't interested, you could have just told me that Love." Sherlock returned the kiss. "When I thought you didn't want to, I had lost interest too…and then you were…" He trailed off with a sigh and a shrug of his slim shoulders. This had never really been a problem for them before. It was weird to be having this conversation.
John chuckled a bit, gently running a hand gently down Sherlock's chest. "Wanted to make you happy. After the couch in your Mum's living room...I couldn't help it." He smiled a bit and lifted his hand to rest it gently on his husband's cheek. "You convinced me. You had it all planned, pulled me upstairs...I just thought..." Damn he had ruined this.
Sherlock shrugged again. "It's fine." He couldn't think of anything else to say anymore. Shagging wasn't really appealing to him right now, even with the slow kisses and light touches he was receiving from his husband. He should probably just take them back downstairs, since nothing was going to happen now.
Definitely ruined it. John closed his eyes for a long moment and pulled his husband closer. "I am sorry," he whispered as he leaned forward and rested his head on Sherlock's chest. "I didn't mean to ruin this at all for you." He was a horrible husband, wasn't he? Why did he always have to ruin everything. Maybe he could turn Sherlock on? Get him excited again? "Do you remember you said you had an idea for when we shagged with the window? Tell me about it," he said softly as he moved a hand to start gently massaging Sherlock's side.
Sherlock wasn't sure now was the best time to explain what he had planned to John. "I wanted to tape it." He looked down at the floor, modest and embarrassed by something sexual related for the first time. If his husband didn't want to do this new idea for role play he had doubts about this prospect actually happening.
Oh. John's hand tightened momentarily on Sherlock's side. That was very new and very different. He was sure his breath caught loudly in his throat. "Right," he whispered with a blush. Videotaped. Sex against the window and a video camera. "I...all right..." He looked up at his husband with a sheepish smile. Why not? "As long as the children don't find it, yeah? But...would we watch it later?" He giggled softly and buried his face into Sherlock's chest.
"Really?" Sherlock looked up at John in surprise. "I don't know. Maybe. I...read about it in one of my books. It sounded interesting so I wanted to try it." He gave a slight shrug. He liked doing and trying new things with John. So far he had liked everything, just some more than others.
"Really," John said with a soft smile, pressing his nose against the crook in Sherlock's neck. "I want to do it. I know you want it. Why not?" He pressed his hips lightly against his husband. "Where would we put it? The camera, I mean. On a stand? In my chair?" He opened his mouth and nipped gently at Sherlock's neck. His husband constantly tried to seduce him so why not try it himself? His free hand moved into the back of Sherlock's pants and squeezed his ass.
Sherlock smiled. "I love you so much my dear doctor. You are so amazing." He embraced John in a tight hug. He moaned at his husband's touch. He couldn't help but press his hips into John, with another moan. Maybe he would get to do the role play after all. "I think I am need of a doctor. There is this man I know and I can't keep my hands off of him. What would you prescribe?"
John hummed into Sherlock's neck, a smile tugging ay his lips. "That is a fantastic question," he whispered as his hips stopped. Sherlock wanted a role play. "Maybe try to stop thinking about him? Or perhaps talk to him?" His hand moved gently toward Sherlock's entrance, one finger slowly entering him. Daring, certainly, but he couldn't help himself. "Tell him how much you want him and see what his reaction is?" He pulled his finger out and moved his hand from Sherlock's pants. "I am not sure there is a medication for it."
Sherlock moaned loudly, his knees buckling a bit as he felt John's finger. It had been unexpected but more than welcomed. "What about laying down with him? Would that help rid of the symptoms? Touchitis, is it?" He smirked a bit. He had no idea where he was going with this. There hadn't been any real forethought like the other fantasies.
John snorted slightly at the statement but nodded. "Perhaps. Does he want to lay with you?" Did he get more bold with his statements? God, he couldn't help himself as his lips moved languidly against his husband's neck. "Want to have you above him and inside of him?" His lips tugged in a smirk and he gently pressed his hips forward. Jesus. How could he keep this going? He wanted Sherlock now. "Try laying down with him. Talking to him, whispering to him."
Sherlock couldn't help but grin. "Hmm, I think this man I speak of is even more eager than I am right now. Should I give him what he wants? Or make him work for it?" He leaned down and began sucking loudly on John's neck, nibbling on it from time to time. There was certainly going to be a mark there later. Marking his husband was one of his favorite things to do. He pressed into John roughly with his hips, slamming his husband into the door. He growled into the skin, biting harder than before.
Rough. God, it was rough. The door wiggled slightly and John let out a low moan. "G-Give it to him," he whispered brokenly. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of teeth sinking into his skin. "Yes. Please..." He arched his back and quickly wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist, eagerly pressing his hips forward multiple times. "Please. Good medicine." Damn he sounded like a whore but he didn't care.
Sherlock smirked proudly as he pulled away from John's neck. The rough thing seemed to be working out for them, and shit he loved it rough. So, he kept with the current motif. He grabbed his husband by the shirt and dragged him over to the hospital bed. He shoved John down and eagerly straddled his husband. He rubbed his throbbing bulge onto John's stomach with a moan, enjoying the friction from the fabric.
Everything happened so fast that the moment he felt Sherlock above him, felt the man's erection against his stomach, he moaned loudly. John bit his bottom lip and moved his hands instantly to Sherlock's hips, grabbing them tightly and lifting his hips up as rough as he could manage. "Does this man like it rough? Like being manhandled and used?" He asked breathlessly, gasping as he glanced between them.
Sherlock smirked down at John. "Sometimes he does. Sometimes he begs for it. Wants it so bad, he can't keep his hands off of me." He pressed his erection against his husband tightly, causing him to moan again. They hadn't even started yet and he could hardly keep quiet. He had discovered he quite liked drawing out their role plays but he wasn't sure he had that kind of self control right now. With everything being so rough, his mind was fuzzy with arousal and desire.
Fuck. How could he keep everything up after that? Sherlock had just described John to a tee and he was so bloody turned on. "Is that so?" He replied with a low moan, a hand moving up Sherlock's back to grasp tightly at his husband's shirt. "Then use him," he directed softly, turning his head to press his lips against Sherlock's ear. "Use him and have your way. That is probably what he has wanted all along."
Maybe just a little longer. If only to hear John beg for it. Did it turn his husband on? Christ, it turned him on when John made him beg on those occasion his husband had control. Sherlock began marking the other side of John's neck. "I want to hear him beg for it. Squirm below me. Writhing with desire and lust. Make him so crazy, he is screaming my name and pleading with me to do whatever I want." He continued to rub his hard on into his husband's stomach, moaning into John's neck.
Of course Sherlock would manage to keep his mind focused. John moaned loudly, his hips pressing up hard enough to move the bed a bit on the floor. "And he will beg. God, I am sure he would," he whispered as he turned his head, grinning when his lips were nearly next to his husband's ear. "Would tell you that your cock was beautiful and he needed it inside of him. Rough and hard." He nipped at Sherlock's ear with a small gasp. "So hard he didn't want to walk the next day." His hips lifted roughly again and he let out a short cry, his hand curling so his fingernails could dig into Sherlock's back. "Then he would scream, spread his legs like a whore, and tell you he needed you." John wiggled, his legs spreading as he tried to control his breathing.
Sherlock whimpered as John spoke into his ear. "God yes. I think he would needed to be reminded that some form of lubricant is needed unless he meant in the most literal way he didn't want to walk the next day." He turned his head to smirk at his husband. He continued to squirm and press into the man below him with small moans of desire. He was beginning to leak pre-cum, staining the front of his pants.
Hell, Sherlock even had time to be a smart ass. John smirked and reached between them, pulling the small bottle of lube from his pocket and shoving it harshly against Sherlock's chest. "I am sure by now he would tell you that he would want to be on his stomach and pounded into so hard he got a burn on his stomach from the blankets," he whispered with a small blush. "And that he would scream your name with each thrust, yeah?" He lifted his hips shallowly as he started getting more desperate.
"Oh, he would…would he? Hmmm, I might have to think about that." Sherlock growled and bit John's neck like he had on the other side. Lubricant. Right. He sat up slowly, still mounted on his husband's hips. He fiddled with his pants and when they slid down he kicked them off one pant leg at a time. He prepped himself with a moan, some of the pre-cum dripping onto John.
Bloody tease. John watched Sherlock, mesmerized by what was going on. God, Sherlock was so hard and...he grinned and ran his finger through the pre-cum on his shirt, looking up at his husband before slowly sliding his finger into his mouth. Two could play at that game. He moaned softly and moved a hand to wrap around Sherlock's in an attempt to help him get as prepped as possible. "Think about it? What if he begged? What if he said 'Oh, Sherlock please' and things like that?"
Sherlock glanced down to watch John's finger. Anytime his husband sucked on something, he found it extremely hot and he couldn't help but whimper. "Y-yes. That would be good. V-very good." God, John had turned him into a stuttering idiot by licking that finger. He kept replaying the image in his head and then suddenly he was thinking about the time with the riding crop. Shit. Now he wished he had the damned thing. Why hadn't they used it again since that wonderful moment?
John kept his hand wrapped around Sherlock, squeezing his husband's hand and watching his cock curiously. He stretched his back and pressed his mouth against Sherlock's ear. "Sherlock please. God, I want you. Use me," he whispered as he lifted his hips slowly. "Use me." Of course he sounded like a whore but that's what his husband wanted and he wasn't going to ruin this again.
Sherlock had lost himself in lustrous thoughts, that he almost didn't hear John speak. What? Oh right. He was supposed to be shagging his husband. He undid John's pants. Had his husband said something about being on the stomach? He couldn't stop thinking about the riding crop and it was very distracting, but in the most wonderful way. He got some lubricant on his fingers, he remembered that much at least.
It was very clear that Sherlock was slightly distracted. John took a deep breath and kicked his pants and underwear off. "Sherlock..." He moved to gently meet his husband's lips. "Sherlock," he muttered behind he kiss. Now he was getting desperate and if Sherlock didn't start paying attention he was sure he would go crazy. He shifted and moved to lay on his stomach, turning to look at his husband with a flushed face.
"Sorry," Sherlock muttered as he slid his fingers into John with a few quick thrusts. "I was thinking about the time I used the riding crop on you and how much I wish I had it right now." He smirked down at his husband, and after a few more rough thrusts with his fingers figured that would be sufficient prepping. He entered quickly, with a loud satisfying moan. He leaned down to begin biting John on the back and shoulder. Now this reminded him of the island and the only good moment they had shared together while there.
John shouted and dug his hands into the sheets below him. Riding crop. Jesus. He closed his eyes and turned his head slightly to dig his teeth into the bed in an attempt to muffle his noises. After this he was definitely going to look like Hell. On his neck, his back and shoulder. And he loved it. "Sherlock, please," he shouted as he moved up the bed slightly, moaning as his erection rubbed against the bed beneath him. "Harder. God, please!"
"Eager aren't we Love?" Sherlock smirked again and complied with the request. The thrusts were hard and quick, ramming as far as he could go and grunting from the effort. It would certainly get him off quick, it always did. He moved his lips to the back of John's neck and began to suck loudly, not at all concerned with muffling any of the noise.
"Ahh! Mmph..." John smashed his face into the mattress with a loud shout and grunted when his body slid slightly up the hospital bed. Jesus, this was too good. They hadn't shagged this rough in a long time. They couldn't risk the kids finding them and this was definitely noisy. Now he could hardly form coherent sentences. "Sherlo'-" he whimpered and it turned into a shout as he tried to lift his hips to meet the thrusts from his husband but failed, instead just laying there to enjoy it all.
Sherlock was feeling rather proud of himself right now. He hadn't realized how much he had missed shagging this hard until now. It was always so wonderfully rough. Something he had discovered very early on in their relationship that he loved. After a few more quick thrusts, he came and moaned John's name into his husband's neck. He didn't' last long, but he had expected that. He collapsed slightly to one side of John, breathing heavily. He didn't mind all the effort and energy it took to do that, it was always worth it. He slid his hand under his husband's stomach, and took hold of John's erection. He began the fastest pace he could manage, while being winded.
John rolled slightly to the side to help Sherlock out, looking at him with half-open eyes as he came roughly across his stomach. "Sherlo'-" he rolled closer to his husband and winced, trying to stay on his side to ignore the pain. He rested his head against Sherlock's chest with a soft sigh. "Thank y-you." He closed his eyes and whimpered as he tried to calm his breathing. "Good. So good."
Sherlock was exhausted. Rough sex always took a lot out of him and couple that with his mother being hospitalized and everything else period lately he was completely worn out. "…'sgood…" He muttered, his eyes slipping closed before he even had a chance to realize he was falling asleep. He snuggled into John automatically, his nose nuzzling into his husband's shoulder. "Love you," he murmured as he his breathing evened out and body stilled.
Sleep. Had John's request been too much? It had felt amazing and he couldn't help himself. Sod it. Let his husband sleep and he would stop worrying. "You are wonderful," he whispered into Sherlock's hair before he closed his eyes. When he woke up he was certainly going to feel everything but he was exhausted and he couldn't help himself. Sleep, especially with Sherlock curled against him, was too hard to fight. He finally gave in and let himself fall asleep.